


Kindred Spirits

by cosmic_llin



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-20
Updated: 2008-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor thinks that nobody can understand him, but one person can.</p><p>This is set immediately after The Last of the Time Lords.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindred Spirits

The Tardis repairs were finished. Well, the essential repairs were finished. Well, the very essential repairs were finished, and everything else was non-essential and so, by definition, could wait for a bit.

Martha wasn't due back for a couple of hours. She was with her family. The Doctor didn't blame her – he would have liked to have been with his.

If someone had asked him, back when things were halfway normal, whether he would regret the death of the Master – well, of course, he would. Any death was regrettable. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, and all that. But it wouldn't have been like this. He probably wouldn't have cried. Definitely, he wouldn't have cried like a child, lost and frightened and inconsolable.

There was nobody who could understand. Nobody who could possibly understand the sheer magnitude of his pain. Once again, he was the last of his race. Alone in the universe. More alone than anyone else had ever been or ever would be. He leaned against the console for a moment, as his eyes clouded with tears again. It was too much. How could anyone live through this? How could anyone go on, feeling such crushing despair?

And suddenly, a thought. A memory. And he was programming the coordinates. A quick trip, before Martha came back.

Of course, it made perfect sense. He wasn't sure, really, why he hadn't gone to her right away, back before he even met Rose. Too painful, maybe. She would have been so sympathetic, and he wouldn't have been ready for it then. Then he had wanted to forget, to pretend, to go on adventuring as if nothing had ever happened. He had tried that, and it had almost worked, until the Master. And now it was even harder than before. Perhaps a bit of sympathy wouldn't be so bad.

When he arrived, he wasn't sure for a moment if he had the right coordinates after all. He had materialised in what looked like a recreation room – lots of comfortable chairs dotted about, clusters of people playing games and chatting. They were wearing hospital gowns and they looked ill, but content. White-clad attendants were hovering about with benevolent expressions, ready to assist the patients if needed. Of course, it had been a few years. She'd made changes.

None of the people in the room seemed concerned at the appearance of the Tardis, although they did look, and whispered amongst themselves. One of the attendants came up to the Doctor as he emerged, smiling welcomingly.

'She said you might come one day,' he said. 'This way, please.'

The Doctor followed the attendant down the shining white corridors, decorated with artworks here and there.

'That's her office, just go in,' the attendant said, when they reached a plain, white door.

The room was smallish, and full. Work benches and scientific equipment occupied most of one side, and the other side was taken up with a large desk covered with paperwork. She was sitting at the desk, working on a handheld computer.

'Nyssa?' asked the Doctor.

She looked up. She was a little older – how much exactly, it was hard to tell. She looked well on it though, mature, maternal. Someone you would trust with important things.

'Doctor?' she asked. 'That is you, isn't it?'

'How could you tell?' He couldn't keep a slight note of disappointment from his voice. She didn't seem in the least surprised to see him.

'Oh, well, I'm getting quite good at managing my mental abilities,' she said modestly. 'I just sort of knew. Tell me – what's wrong? Why have you come to Terminus?'

'No "how's it going, nice regeneration, gosh you're looking young"?' the Doctor asked, pulling up a chair and sitting across the desk from her.

'You always looked young,' she pointed out. 'At least, for most of the time that I knew you. You didn't come to exchange pleasantries, Doctor. What's the matter?'

He looked at her, helplessly. 'It's the Time Lords,' he said. 'They're all dead. Even the Master. He escaped the Time War, and I tried to… I mean, I wanted to make it up with him because we were the only ones left… but he just wouldn't let me! And then he died!'

His lip was wobbling, he could feel it. Nyssa reached over the desk to squeeze his hand.

'You poor thing,' she said. 'It must be awful for you.'

The Doctor could only manage a nod, and a few deep breaths to calm himself.

'I wanted to ask you,' he continued after a moment. 'I wanted to ask you how you did it? I mean, how you just carried on? When your parents were murdered and Traken was destroyed and everything, you just went right on, helping me with the Tardis and keeping an eye on Adric and Tegan and getting on with things… And you never complained, and you never made a fuss… And you were hardly more than a child! How did you do it?'

Suddenly he was crying again, in spite of himself, in ridiculous gulping sobs. He felt ashamed of it somehow, but Nyssa didn't seem to mind. She got up and came around the desk to stand close to him, to hug his shoulders and stroke his hair and make soothing noises.

'It was hard,' she said, after a little while. 'It still is. I still miss Traken, very much, and I know that will never change. There hasn't been a day since my world was destroyed that I haven't thought about it.'

She moved away a little, to sit on the edge of the desk, her hand still on the Doctor's shoulder.

'The first few months were very hard,' she said. 'But you all helped – you and Tegan and Adric. I lost my family, but I gained another in you three. Tegan was like a sister to me, I'll never forget her kindness. Adric was sweet in his way. But you – you took me to so many places, showed me so many wonderful things. I'd never imagined that there was so much to be experienced in the universe. I suppose that was the thing that helped the most – it was comforting to know that, even though Traken was gone forever, there were a million other places just as beautiful in different ways.' She paused, thinking. 'And of course, all the trouble we got into was quite a good distraction…'

She grinned at the Doctor encouragingly and he smiled back.

'We did get into a lot of trouble, didn't we?' he said.

'And we got out of it all again, more or less,' Nyssa replied. 'And I suppose you're still doing it now? I don't imagine you've stopped?'

He shrugged, comically. 'I just can't help myself.'

She smiled. 'That's good. That's the way it should be. You'll be all right, Doctor, I know you will.'

'I hope you're right,' he said.

'Of course I am,' she said. 'We'll both be all right, because it's more important now than ever. You're the last of the Time Lords, and I'm the last of the Trakenites. We have a duty to make the most of our lives, and do whatever we can to help people and to make the universe a better place. I've made a start – I've found a safe cure for Lazar's Disease. Once Terminus is running at peak efficiency, I'll find somewhere else to do good, and I'll do it. If I'm the last Trakenite, I want to make sure that my people are remembered for our best traits, for the good things we did. It's a sad duty, but it's a proud one. And yours is just the same. Our lives have more meaning now than they ever could have before.'

The Doctor looked up at her, eyes wide.

'Were you always this wise?' he managed, after a moment.

'I learned from the best,' she smiled.

He felt buoyed, suddenly, somehow more philosophical about the whole thing. If the reputation of his people rested on his shoulders, well, he was damn well going to make sure it was a good one. For Romana, for Chronotis, for Drax – even for the Rani and Inquisitor Darkel. Even for the Master. The thought continued to cheer him as Nyssa walked him back to the Tardis, and as they said their goodbyes.

Back in the console room, he set the coordinates for Earth, to meet Martha, feeling much better than when he had left.  
That was Nyssa, of course. Unassuming, quiet – sometimes you would barely even notice she was there. Until you needed her, and there she was; fighting with everything she had for what was right – resourceful, determined, loyal to the end. If you needed it, she would find a way. Not even the loss of her people could stop her.

Well, the Doctor reflected, as he landed back in London with more or less the expected amount of bumpiness, if Nyssa could do it, so could he.


End file.
